


Shatter Me

by otakuAegyo



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Elementals and froggies and bears oh my, Feels, Gen, Heartbreak, I'll tag more as the story progresses, Logan and Roman are definitely horse girls, Major Character Injury, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Patton Angst, Platonic DLAMP - Freeform, Resurrection, also everyone is sympathetic, cuddle piles, description of injury, he's my boy and I love him but that also means it's my job to break him down so he can rise back up, janus KNOWS, me? projecting? it's more likely than you think, ngl guys it's gonna get dark, patton-centric, this is how the story plays out, wish I could've worked Remus in here somehow but alas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otakuAegyo/pseuds/otakuAegyo
Summary: All the sides have secrets, but none have one as lethal as the one Patton is keeping. Can he keep it under wraps long enough to resolve it or will the trauma of it all spell his undoing?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Creativity | Roman Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Everyone
Comments: 90
Kudos: 253





	1. Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones but Words Hurt Far More Deeply

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, I'm coming at you with another short series, this time about a headcanon I have about Patton. I'll leave it there before I give too much of it away. ^^'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton's got a painful secret that he must keep hidden from the other sides.

At some point or another, all the sides had kept secrets from each other.

Mostly, it had to do with where they had been in the past or something silly, like the time Roman “accidentally” ate all of Logan’s Crofters. The others still kept some, likely to make a well-placed or dramatic reveal of it, and Patton was no different. He himself occasionally had physical manifestations of emotional pain. However, there was one thing he knew that wasn’t a secret.

Patton knew how they all really felt about him.

_Sentimental._

_Overbearing._

_Naive._

_Worthless._

Even if they rarely said any of those descriptors out loud or in his presence, the unspoken words came through loud and clear every time they thought he would mess something up. Which was in almost every video he appeared in. They thought he didn’t notice the dismissive remarks or the eye rolls whenever he had any ideas to share when Thomas had an issue that needed working through. It’s just ol’ Patton spouting off whatever random thoughts and/or dad jokes pop up in his head like always.

For the most part, Patton could handle whatever emotional turmoil they threw at him. He knew that despite what they thought, they still cared about him and valued his opinions. The occasional pain was worth it if they were happy. And they were, especially after Thomas had introduced them to his online community of Fanders (the part that made him the happiest). Even Patton himself had been ecstatic to reach out to so many other kiddos out there. At least, he was until they had gotten in front of the camera.

Yeah, his jokes didn’t land with the others, it wasn’t a big deal. That was no different than telling them in the Mindscape on most days. However, he really wanted to do that four-part harmony when Roman suggested it, even after they immediately shot it down when he came in. But Patton could shake that off, too. He was strong. So, imagine his surprise when he discovered short, thin cracks radiating from over his heart when he was changing into his cat onesie that evening. “Oh,” he said, running his hand delicately over them, “That must’ve gotten to me a little more than I thought.” No matter, though, they always went away within a few days.

Everything went back to relative normal in short order and Patton was back to being a happy pappy. The next few videos came and went without much fanfare. He was even featured by himself to help Thomas with his adultery! There was nothing better than that. The cracks didn’t return until just before they started planning out The Mind vs. The Heart.

That morning, Patton had been making breakfast for everyone as he almost always did. This morning was especially pleasant for him because Thomas had actually listened to Patton yesterday when he suggested he go and pet all the puppies in the pet store on the way home. Having that thought at the forefront made it easy to softly sing to himself as the bacon sizzled. Roman was already eating his as fast as he could fancifully manage.

“Roman, I know my food is good, but please don’t choke up on your swallow through,” Patton said with a smile, taking the last batch of bacon out of the pan and putting it on a plate. Roman just nodded and kept doing exactly what he was doing. “Say, you didn’t happen to see Logan when you came down, did you?” Patton was getting a little worried about Logan. It was early, yes, but the logical side always made his appearance long before now.

“Haben’t sheen ‘im thish morning,” Roman said with a mouthful of pancake.

Patton hummed, set his and Logan’s plates on the table, and grabbed some forks. He sat down at the table, picking at the eggs a little. He would feel better about eating when Logan came. As if on cue, soft squeaks came from the staircase. “Huh, speak of the devil,” Roman mumbled. Patton immediately perked up.

“Good morning, Logan!” Patton shouted. Logan stopped at the bottom of the stairs and covered his ears.

“Too loud, Pat,” Logan grumbled, making his way slowly to the table.

Patton softly replied, “Sorry. I made breakfast.” He couldn’t help but notice the dark circles beneath Logan’s eyes as he approached; they were almost dark enough to rival Anxiety’s. Patton was very much hoping that Roman wouldn’t notice, if only to preserve the peace (and the rest of his good mood, but Patton didn’t want that to be the focus).

“Thank you.” Logan sat and went straight for the coffee, downing half of it in only a few seconds. So far, so good. “Ugh, aren’t I a little old for cat-shaped pancakes, Patton?”

Patton shook his head with a smile. “You’re never too old to have a Patton paw-ncake!” he said cheerily, batting a pawed hand in the air for emphasis.

“Wow, looks like someone’s been to the dark sides this morning. Can we get a bag check on Logan’s eyes?” said Roman, going for another mouthful of bacon.

Logan wasn’t amused. “I’m sorry some of us have to work overtime to make Thomas make the right decisions,” he spat. “Sometimes it’s like I’m the only adult here.” Patton felt that familiar pain ghost across his chest.

“Ex- _cuse_ me, how dare you say such a thing, and when Padre was nice enough to make you breakfast! And anyways, you are NOT the only one who has to pull late nights, Snide and Prejudiced,” Roman countered.

Patton said, “It’s fine, Roman, ple—”

“Really?” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Because it seems to me like _you_ only keep Thomas up at ungodly hours fantasizing about the things _you_ want.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“As the most important side, no, I don’t.”

“Oh well ex-cuuuuuuse me, _Mr._ President—”

From there it devolved into them shouting over each other. Roman slung eggs and syrup everywhere while wildly gesticulating. Logan kept smacking the table trying to make his points. Chocolate milk was going everywhere. They had never been so tense with each other.

“Um, kiddos?” Patton said. Neither of them heard him in the midst of their shouting match. “Kiddos?” he said a little louder, reaching out toward them. “Maybe if we just—”

“THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU, PATTON!” both of them yelled. Patton recoiled. Another crack split painfully across his chest. Both of them went back to screaming at each other. He couldn’t stand to see them like this, even if they were hurting him in the process. What else could he do but meet them at their level?

Patton stood abruptly and slammed his hands down on the table. “That’s ENOUGH, both of you!” he scolded. They instantly hushed, flustered and in awe that Patton could even raise his voice. He took a breath and calmly continued, “Roman, I appreciate you defending me like the noble Prince you are, but it’s okay. We _know_ that Logan isn’t the only one that works the graveyard shift, but we shouldn’t make fun of the sides that do when they’re not in their best shape. And Logan, I know you’re tired, but—”

“Yes, from trying to mitigate the effects _you_ had on Thomas yesterday,” Logan interrupted. “We almost _adopted_ one of those puppies when we have neither the resources nor the time to look after one. And _who_ was the one who had to convince him that it was a bad idea? Me!”

Even though Patton wasn’t sorry about that in the slightest, he still apologized. “You did the right thing, Logan. Why don’t you go back to bed for a little while? You’ve earned it,” Patton said. “I’ll even keep your breakfast warm for you.”

Logan nodded and left wordlessly, taking the coffee mug with him back up the stairs. With him gone, Patton looked to Roman. “You owe him an apology, mister,” said Patton.

“What? _Me? He_ was the one being snippier than an Edward Scissorhands wannabe!” Roman cried.

“Well, you didn’t help that, now did you? But he also owes you an apology, too.” That garnered a little “oh” from the Prince. Patton sighed and took Logan’s plate to the oven, turning it on to the lowest setting.

“You know we would’ve worked it out on our own eventually, right?” Roman said. “This is just what we do.”

“I know,” Patton responded. “I think … I should start cleaning up. There’s chocolate milk everywhere.”

Roman nodded. “Okay, Padre. Is there … something I can help with, at least?” He got up and handed his mostly empty plate to Patton.

“Thanks, but I can handle it,” Patton said softly, voice barely above a whisper. He felt Roman’s hand on his shoulder and looked up at the Prince.

“You shouldn’t worry about us so much. We’ll be fine. And, uh, I promise I’ll make it up to the Grinch up there,” said Roman with a small smile.

_We don’t need you smothering us._

Great! Now Patton’s thoughts were going to take it upon themselves to put translations after the other’s words! Patton tried to return a smile despite the pain in his chest growing. It must’ve convinced him because Roman, with a final pat on his shoulder, turned and left. As soon as Roman was completely out of sight, Patton rubbed at the cracks to try and soothe their aching. It never worked, but it made him feel a little less like a sad dad. Oh well. At least they’d disappear soon enough.

Or not.

A few days after Losing Motivation came out, Patton had once again busied himself in the kitchen, this time baking chocolate chip cookies while humming along to the Disney showtunes that Roman had playing in the living room. No doubt Thomas would have them stuck in his head by the end of the day. Not that it was a problem in Patton’s mind; the music really helped him ignore the constant throbbing pain that those ugly fractures left on his chest. Better to have Disney showtunes on the brain than a recent ex-boyfriend, right?

The oven timer let out a short _ding!_ at the start of the chorus to Prince Ali. “Oh cookie, where would I be if you weren’t hooooot,” Patton sang over the lyrics. He danced over to the oven while putting on heart-patterned oven mitts. “So full of sweets from eating way more than I ouuuuggghhht. To.” He took the finished cookies out of the oven and twirled around to the music, kicking the door closed and sliding the baking sheet onto the stove in one smooth motion.

Patton made quick work of getting them off the baking sheet and onto a plate. “Cookies are ready!” he shouted. Quick, thundering steps met his cry and in seconds, Roman was in the kitchen juggling three.

“Don’t mind if I do, Pat,” said Roman. Fear never deterred Roman, not even when in the face of third degree mouth burns from oven-fresh cookies. Patton would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of his son for being so brave (even if another part of him was terrified of Roman getting hurt). “Hanksh,” he said with a mouthful of molten cookie, pretending that it wasn’t actually too hot but still doing the hashafashafa thing to cool it down while he ate.

“You’re welcome, son,” Patton replied. He looked at the cookies and remembered why he was making them in the first place. Ever since Anxiety had made himself known, Patton had been trying to reach out to him. Sure, he was dark and broody and sometimes the others had a little trouble seeing how important his contributions were, but he wasn’t the villain that they made him out to be. Anxiety deserved to feel welcome, and that was something Patton would always advocate for.

He set a few of the cookies on another plate for the rest of the sides (and himself) and poured a glass of milk. “Anxiety’s gonna love this!” He picked the cookies and milk up and danced them out of the kitchen, making sure to pass by Logan on the way. Not that it was hard, he was almost always studying at the dining room table. “Hey Logan, do you wanna eat a cookie?” Patton sung to the tune of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

Logan glanced up from his book. “I would prefer not to as I am attempting to set a good example for Thomas by abstaining from sugar,” Logan responded.

“Ah. Well, more for me and Anxiety, then!” said Patton. “If you change your mind, there are some more in the kitchen.”

Logan put the book down and said, “Hold on, are you telling me you’re _still_ intent on making friends with him?”

“Well, yeah, what’s so bad about that?” Patton asked.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you again. Anxiety has no place with us, Patton, and it’s time that you stop pandering to him. There’s a very good reason why he lives with … them, and not us.”

The little fissures began slowly spreading. Patton was getting good at keeping it under wraps. And under shirts. “Now Logan, just because he’s a little different from us doesn’t mean that he has bad intentions. Sure, he started out in a bad place, but who’s to say that he can’t grow out of that? Sometimes, people just need a push in the right direction to shine. Bright like a diamond~,” Patton sang the last part, which earned him a groan. “I promise, if I felt fishy about any of this, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Why would you feel like a fish? Do fish even feel?” Logan said, genuinely perplexed.

Patton sighed. “Gosh, words can be tough. What I mean is that I don’t feel bad about reaching out to Anxiety, not when he’s been reaching out to us in his own way. I don’t get the feeling that he means us harm.”

“But you have to admit that when it comes to character judgement, you can be too forgiving,” Logan said.

“… Is that a bad thing?” Patton quietly replied, wincing a little as the cracks splintered further.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Patton, are you feeling alright?” he asked.

Oh, no.

“Of … course I am!” Patton said. “I’m Morality, why wouldn’t I be feeling?”

Logan grunted and adjusted his glasses. “Let me rephrase that. Patton, moments ago, you clearly indicated you were in pain. Am I interpreting this cue correctly?”

“Um …” Patton stalled. Maybe it was time to tell someone about this; it wasn’t like he could keep hiding it forever. With a sigh, he replied, “Yeah.” _Oh no no no no, he couldn’t do this._

Logan stood there silently for a few moments before realizing that no explanation was going to come out of him without prompting. “Would you care to explain what’s causing it? I can perform first aid if necessary,” he said, stepping toward Patton.

Patton backed away and put his hands up. “I’m alright, really. It’s just … a little heartburn is all. You know me, not waiting until the cookies are cool to start munchin’! It should go away soon,” he replied. He couldn’t describe how badly he wanted to get out from under Logan’s scrutiny.

“If that’s all, then, here,” Logan conjured some Tums, “please take two of these.” He offered the bottle to Patton, who took it with a smile.

“Thank you, Logan, where would we be without you?” said Patton. He took some out of the bottle and made a show of chewing them up. Even if he didn’t really need them, he wanted to be sure that Logan felt listened to.

“What is that on your neck?” Logan asked, gesturing on himself where he thought he saw something.

“Hmm?” Patton felt around in that general area, squeaking softly when he felt a small but deep fracture across his skin. How did he not notice that before? _Quick, Patton, think of something!_ “It’s uh … it’s chocolate!”

Logan’s eyes narrowed again. “Chocolate?”

Patton smiled. “Yeeeaahhhh, I must’ve gotten chocolate on myself when I was making these cookies. Silly me,” he lied, waving a dismissive hand. Well, it wasn’t totally a lie; he did still have some chocolate on his hands.

That seemed to sate the logical side. “Very well then, be sure to wash that off. And I know that no matter what I say, you’re still going to take your cookies to Anxiety. Just, please be careful around him, no matter how he makes you feel. We do still need you to help keep Thomas functioning normally,” said Logan.

“Thank you, Logan, I appreciate that. I promise I’ll be careful,” Patton said with a smile. Logan gave him a curt nod and went back to his studies. Some of the pain subsided with that last comment, which Patton was very grateful for. If it had been anywhere near what it was before, he couldn’t have done what he had set out to do without cuing Anxiety on to his problems. With as much of a smile as he could muster, Patton picked up the cookies and milk and headed down to Anxiety’s room. Thankfully, Logan didn’t notice him adjusting his cardigan along the way.

Patton always thought it was odd that the doorway to the darker side of Thomas’s mind would be inside the broom closet at the end of the hall. In another way, it made a lot of sense when he thought about it a little harder. Anything he wanted hidden would be stowed in here for safe keeping until he was ready to confront it. Plus, it made an excellent visual pun that made Patton giggle every once in a while. He opened the door, carefully balancing the plate on his arm.

“Let’s see, last time I made two rights, a left at the weird eyeball painting that stares at you, another right, then a left, and it’s the last door on the left,” Patton mumbled to himself as he walked through the dark side’s labyrinthine corridors. “Please let there be no spiders this time.”

In between the first two rights, a yellow-gloved hand slithered its way around the edge of the corner in front of Patton, making him stop dead in his tracks. _No no no, not now!_ “Well well well, if it isn’t Morality,” Deceit stepped out in front of Patton, “have you _finally_ decided to join us AND bring us cookies? I know we would all be _devastated_ if you did.” His ever-present smirk seemed even more delighted than normal.

“Um, no. I’m just bringing Anxiety some cookies like I’ve been doing for a while now. You know that,” Patton replied. This definitely wasn’t making him uneasy.

“Indeed I do, and I also know something else.” Deceit strode forward until he was uncomfortably close. “You’ve been hiding something I find to be … most exquisite. If you keep that up, you’re liable to put me out of a job. Tell me, how long do you think you can play my game but keep me away from the field? Or even better,” he slowly circled Patton, eyes ever trained on him, “how long do you think you can keep _their_ prying eyes away from your little secret?” He gently touched the center of Patton’s chest, which made him hiss and nearly drop the cookies and milk.

Patton had to take a moment to catch his breath. “I refuse to … make this their problem,” he gasped. He could’ve sworn he saw a few glowing drops of his essence through his shirt where Deceit’s finger had been.

“Oh, of _course_ you don’t. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that one. They’re _obviously_ trying to hurt you by saying and doing all of these little things and telling them this would only make them want to do it more,” Deceit said, coming to stop in front of Patton.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to look out for me in your … own way and I appreciate it, but please, Dee … I can’t tell them this. It would break them even more than it’s breaking me— and I won’t have it.”

Deceit’s smile faded. “You don’t want to listen to reason? Fine. But I leave you with this,” he shook a finger and slowly began sinking out, “what would hurt them more: the others finding out about this now or the others finding out about this when you’re in itty. Bitty. Pieces?” His last words echoed through the empty halls, chilling Patton to his core.

He knew Deceit was right, in his own roundabout way. That was one of his greatest assets: he was a brilliant analyst despite his airs, one that could keenly rival Logan’s perceptive inclinations. It was also what Patton dreaded about him. He couldn’t hide anything from Deceit, not that there was much he could do to hide all the cracks given how many there were.

“No!” Patton said to himself. This wasn’t the time for getting absorbed in thoughts! This was supposed to be bonding-with-his-precious-anxious-baby time, gosh darn it, and he was _not_ going to waste any more time thinking about all the things that were hurting him! Putting on his best determined dad face, Patton quickly marched toward Anxiety’s room.

Before he could get too far, though, he saw Anxiety’s familiar, brooding figure lurking through the halls. He perked up almost imperceptibly when he saw Patton coming. “Oh, there you are. Not like I was worried about you being late or anything,” he said, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

Patton just smiled, relieved that Anxiety hadn’t noticed the little, slightly glowing stains on the front of his shirt. “Of course not. Shall we?” he replied. Anxiety nodded.

The two shared a nice, albeit short, time in Anxiety’s room talking through everything they could. Anxiety’s particular favorite seemed to be picking through Disney movies (or really any movie) to find all of the dark origins or morbid underlying themes they held. While Patton liked being able to spend time with Anxiety, the combination of being in his room for longer than around half an hour and the negative talk were lying heavily on his chest. Still, he never let it show that those cracks were slowly spider-webbing across his skin.

By the end of the day, every step was a Herculean task for Patton. He barely made it back to his room without stumbling. Still, there was one last thing to be done: survey the damage he had accrued. He trudged into the bathroom and grasped the sink with shaking arms, head hanging heavily. “Alright, head up on three, Patton. One, two, three,” he said, letting go of the sink and looking up in the mirror. Despite his weathered appearance, not much could be seen with his shirt still on aside from two small fractures that forked up either side of his neck. The few that had made it past his sleeves were so thin that he didn’t even notice them at first. Patton sighed. He really didn’t want to look at the epicenter of the damage. “Right after this, you can go to bed,” he bartered with his reflection. He gently lifted the hem of his shirt up and nearly fainted from what he saw.

The cracks at the center of Patton’s chest had turned more into chasms where his skin had chipped away like broken porcelain. His essence shone through, now a raging blue storm that threatened to break through the invisible barrier where his skin should be. From there, the light bled through into the smaller fissures that spanned his entire torso, front and back. He knew it was bad, but it had never been to this extent. He gently touched the edge of the center break and accidentally dipped his finger into the blue fluid. The tears he had repressed welled up in his eyes, spurred on by a jolt of raw emotion. Patton quickly wiped the fluid off onto his pants. The tears no longer had any driving force behind them.

“Oh Patton, you’ve got to remember not to do that,” he once again told his reflection. He had forgotten how much emotional sway his essence had when he touched it. Patton knew he couldn’t keep the happy act up like this. So, what else could he do but make himself as scarce as possible until it healed at least a little bit?

And that’s exactly what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been super excited to get this out to you guys, so much so that I actually wrote the whole thing before posting the first chapter! I'll be releasing new chapters on Mondays. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! You guys' feedback really does mean a lot to me!
> 
> Stay tuned, and I'll see you next Monday!


	2. The Parent Trap (Thomasphere Edition)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our protagonist finds himself in quite the sticky situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bro, things are about to get _serious_. Y'all ready?
> 
> (PS come say hi on Tumblr @atlasistryingherbest)

“Look, Specs, all I’m saying is _something_ is definitely up with him. Cooking us breakfast but not eating with us? Disappearing as soon as we so much as glance in his direction? Has he even let you near him for the past few days without making some excuse as to why he has to go somewhere else?” Roman paced in the living room while Logan reviewed his notes on the couch.

“Roman, it’s been exactly two days, five hours, forty-seven minutes, and twenty seconds since Patton began showing this behavior. It’s not exactly a cause for concern for him to take some time for himself,” Logan replied, not bothering to look up at the Prince.

Roman looked indignant. “Oh okay, Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Blind, then how do you explain those weird marks all over his body?”

Immediately, Logan perked up, a vague look of concern flashing across his face. “Marks? Elaborate.”

“I saw them on his hands yesterday. These little … jagged lines. And this morning, his onesie hood slipped off for a moment and I saw them on his neck, too,” Roman replied.

Logan tapped his chin and looked down. “It’s interesting you brought that up. Several days ago, I also noticed something on his neck, but at the time, he said it was chocolate. Could that have been a falsehood meant to cover up some sort of injury?”

“I don’t know, but it’s our only lead for now. Why wouldn’t he tell us if something was wrong?”

“Perhaps it would be best to seek that answer from Patton.”

“Yes! The best way to face any problem is to face it head on! Temporary truce?”

Logan nodded. “Temporary truce.”

The two immediately began planning the ways they might go about it, from simply asking Patton point-blank about what was going on to an elaborate Roadrunner scene that ended with him admitting his troubles in a gazebo in Prague. In the end, the two compromised on a plan that was guaranteed to work; Roman had come up with the falsehoods while Logan constructed the tools of their treachery. There was no way animal crackers and a giant Chinese finger trap would fail them now.

On day six of their truce, Roman and Logan finally put their scheme into motion. It was almost painful for them to hear Patton struggling to free himself. It took him the greater part of ten minutes before he finally settled down in defeat, softly whimpering.

* * *

At times like this, Patton wondered where he went wrong.

Here he was, groveling on the floor, his wrist trapped in some strange icing machine on the counter. Maybe this was divine retribution for the past few days or for not telling the others what was going on? He knew they were beginning to suspect something. At least, he felt like they were. He had been in full view of the Prince when his favorite onesie’s hood slid down a few mornings ago. He was fully aware of Logan’s eyes lingering on him for longer than normal. The hushed tones they used when they thought he was out of listening range hadn’t escaped his keen ears. Even Anxiety had popped up in his room yesterday wondering where he had been.

_“Not that I was worried or anything, but … are you mad at me?” Anxiety asked, fiddling with his hoodie strings like he always did. “It’s just, you haven’t really come by these past few days and—”_

_“Of course not, Anxiety! I’ve been uh, cleaning! Yeah, just cleaning my room. Definitely not hiding! I must’ve lost track of time. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, we can watch one of those,” Patton visibly gulped, “scary movies you like so much. How does that sound?” He tried not to let the dread of a horror flick reach his face._

_Anxiety immediately perked up. “Really?” he asked._

_Patton nodded, giving as genuine a smile as he could muster. “Really really.”_

Thankfully, those awful cracks had now healed enough to where Patton was able to wear his normal clothes again. That turned out to be less of a blessing than he had bargained for; a normal trip to the kitchen quickly turned into something out of one of Anxiety’s favorite horror movies as soon as Patton spotted the traitorous animal crackers.

There was a little note in front of the bowl that looked to be from Logan. _Patton, please enjoy this snack. The contraption on the counter will coat them in rainbow-chip frosting. Be sure to get them in deep and keep holding it until the frosting finishes._ He looked at the macaroni noodle-shaped contraption on the counter. “Aw, that’s so sweet! I’ll have to remember to thank him for all of this later. But for now, I ani-must bring these back to ani-munch on,” he said to himself with a chuckle. “Not before trying one out, though!” He grabbed a lion shaped animal cracker and shoved it into the thingamajig on the counter, but nothing happened.

“Huh, maybe it’s just slow?” He stood there for a good minute or so waiting on delicious frosting, but he knew he couldn’t keep Anxiety waiting for too long. “Anxiety is waiting for me, so I guess yummy frosting will have to wait for me instead.” Patton tried to pull his hand out, but the contraption latched onto him like a vice. “Uh oh.” He tugged harder. It didn’t let go. He leaned his entire weight against it. Still nothing.

He wasn’t freaking out.

“Logan? Roman? Winnie the Pooh is stuck in the honey tree!” he cried. He waited and listened, but no one came. That meant Roman was probably off gallivanting in the Imagination and Logan had to be nose deep in his afternoon studies. Neither Anxiety nor Deceit were allowed in the light side’s common area.

He _definitely_ wasn’t freaking out.

It felt like hours of pointless struggling passed by before Patton gave up, sinking down onto the kitchen floor and quietly whimpering against the cabinet doors. Which brought him to where he was now. “I didn’t even get any animal crackers …” he whined.

Finally, he heard quiet footsteps coming from the living room. “Roman? Logan?” Patton called out. He turned his head toward the doorway but could only partly see the two sides rushing in. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Patton? What happened? Are you alright?” Roman asked.

“I’m fine, just in a bit of a sticky situation,” Patton said, getting up off the floor. “I’ve been at this for so long now, I’m surprised I haven’t sprouted gray hairs! There’s just no way to get out of this. But now that you two are here, maybe there’s hope after all!”

Logan approached him from the front. “We will of course get you out, but first, we need you to do something for us,” he said.

“Sure, anything you need, kiddos,” Patton replied.

Logan nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that because we need to ask you some very important questions.”

Patton could see the concern behind his steely facade. Even Roman looked a little tense.

“Please, Padre.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder.

Patton looked down. “Questions?” He quickly jerked his head back up and pasted on as real a smile as he could. “As long as they aren’t about the secret ingredient for my pasta.”

“We couldn’t help but notice you’ve been a little … out of sorts lately. We just want to know that you’re alright,” Roman said, coming to stand beside Logan.

“Of … course I am. What makes you think something’s wrong?” Patton asked, feeling that familiar nervousness rise whenever someone brought his emotional status up.

Logan said, “For one thing, you’ve been isolating yourself for the past eight days, fifteen hours, seventeen minutes, and two seconds. For another, we have reason to believe that you may have incurred some injury, which led to this isolating behavior.”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan. “Way to be subtle, you muddy elephant.”

Patton could only stare in abject horror as the two hashed out Roman’s name calling. They really _had_ caught on. They knew.

They knew.

_They knew._

“I … can’t …” They looked back at him. He couldn’t find it in him to summon any words. He couldn’t escape their eyes. He couldn’t escape _them_. The two became rather wobbly-looking in front of him, at least until the tears broke free. He sank back down to the floor, silent as the grave but still awash with fear.

Instantly, both sides were near him, Roman rubbing comforting circles on his back. They hurt where his fingers brushed over the cracks, but Patton did his best not to let it show any more than he already was.

Too bad they were so perceptive. “Are you wearing something else under this shirt? The perfectly personalized armor I gave you for Christmas last year, perhaps?” Roman asked, focusing on one particularly painful fissure.

“Patton, please. We want to help you, but we can only do that if you let us help you,” Logan said, releasing Patton’s wrist from the trap and resting a hand on his thigh.

_You’re too naive to even see that you’re so broken._ Patton stared at the hand. Maybe focusing on it would make the pain stop spreading again.

He didn’t notice Roman mouthing something to Logan over his shoulder. Not that he needed to know; he felt the cracks had extended beyond his sleeves. It was all over. He couldn’t hide. He couldn’t escape. That left only one option.

Patton’s hand was suddenly on Logan’s, leading it to the hem of his shirt. “P-promise me … nothing will change,” he whispered, letting his hand go limp. Tears fell with little plops onto his khakis.

Logan nodded. He gently lifted Patton’s shirt up, revealing those horrible cracks etched across his skin. A little bit of blue shone through over his heart. Patton closed his eyes in shame.

“What is …” Roman’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “What _is_ all of this?” he slowly said. His fingers so gently outlined the little ridges, as though one false move would make Patton shatter.

“It’s w-what happens when I’m … hurt,” Patton said. He balled his fists in his lap to keep himself from outrightly sobbing.

Logan, who was at first too shocked to say anything or react, suddenly spoke. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice full of protective vengeance.

“N-no one,” Patton replied. It wasn’t technically a lie; despite being spurred on by hurtful comments, this was something that moreso inflicted _itself_ on him.

“But you just said this is what happens when you’re hurt. Surely this injury must have a cause. Did you … hurt yourself somehow?” Roman pleaded.

_You did this to yourself just to make us coddle you._

Patton quietly cried out as the cracks split up his neck and down his limbs a bit more, and suddenly the world was on its side. He panted hard, trying to get his breathing under control. _It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad oh gosh it hurts real bad it hurts real bad make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop._

“What’s happening? Why are they spreading?” Roman asked frantically.

With a shaky voice, Patton said, “R-roman … c-come closer.” Roman did as he said. “Closer.” Once again, Roman shifted nearer. “C-closer.” Roman’s face was almost touching Patton’s. “I g-guess you c-could s-say it’s … b-because I’m a little … broken up.” Patton summoned a tiny grin.

Logan groaned. “If he’s with it enough to make horrible puns, he’s probably fine, although I do wish to study this rather, um … concerning phenomenon. Are you able to stand?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, even though I m-might not’ve h-had you floored with m-my jokes, I sh-should be able to get off of this one,” Patton replied. Even Roman was reeling with that one.

“I might scream,” said Logan. He still offered a hand to Patton, as did Roman. With their help, he was once again standing. The world was still a little spinny and he ended up falling just a little bit onto Roman, but the dizziness should go away soon enough. At least the pain felt a little more tolerable now thanks to those jokes. “If you’re quite finished with your nonsensical japes, please come with me.”

“S-sorry, kiddo, I actually h-have something planned for th-this afternoon. Can it wait until, uh,” Patton looked up and counted on his fingers, “eight thirty?”

“… I suppo—”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?” Roman suddenly asked. “We could’ve helped you figure it out, maybe even addressed it in a video!”

Patton nodded. “I know I should’ve said something, but I didn’t want you guys worrying about it. You have enough on your plates as it stands with everything for videos and Thomas’s life, and I wasn’t going to add one more noodle onto that heaping plate of pasta,” he said.

“Wait, when did we begin speaking about pasta?” asked Logan.

“It’s a figure of speech, Captain Oblivious.” Roman turned back to Patton. “Don’t ever think that we wouldn’t care enough to want to know when something’s wrong. From now on, if something’s hurting you, please let us know.” He pulled Patton into a hug.

“I will,” Patton sighed happily and returned the hug. A bit of doubt still lingered heavily on his chest; he didn’t know if he would ever have it in him to tell them they were part of the problem. Shoving that thought down, he grabbed the bowl of animal crackers and once again made his way to the closet door.

* * *

“Logan’s log, Mindscape date 0-2-1-5-1-7. Subject matter: Patton’s mysterious injury. Subject was seen today to investigate the cause of an unknown thoracoabdominal injury resembling deep cuts radiating out from just over his heart. Nothing appears broken, skin integrity is good, albeit rigid near the injury sites. Subject’s essence is viewable from the deepest portions of the injury. It appears to be symmetrical between ventral and dorsal surfaces.

“First aid was attempted after the initial exam. All known methods of wound care up to, and including, sutures, staples, bandages, superglue, peppercorns, and army ants were all shown to be ineffective. Much of this is attributed to skin rigidity surrounding the injury site. However, the injury itself appears stable and very little essence has been lost.

“Subject was then queried on the following: date of initial injury, potential cause of initial injury, potential causes of further injury in relevance to earlier growth, pain level, and his observations of the phenomena. Subject stated that he couldn’t remember when the injury first occurred, nor did he remember what caused it. His pain levels fluctuate throughout the day. In regards to personal observation, he stated that the injury had a mind of its own, though how something like that could possibly have a mind is beyond my comprehension at this time. Further testing is needed before an answer can be reached.”

Logan clicked the stop button on the tape recorder and set it down on his desk. He swiveled around in his chair so he was facing the father figure seated squarely on his bed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Patton, are you sure this is all you can remember?” he asked. Patton nodded wordlessly. “Hmm. Well, it’s not much of a start, but I’ll start formulating some hypotheses. For now, I’d like to check up on your healing in one week. I’ll call you if I need more information before then.”

“Alright, just don’t stay up too late now,” Patton said, gently hugging the logical side. Though Logan normally didn’t care much for overt physical affection, he found himself returning the hug. It didn’t last long, but it was just as well that Patton had cut it short and left in a hurry; there were some additional observations Logan needed to record without Patton being around to hear them.

Logan sat down at the desk and picked the tape recorder up again. “Logan’s log, continuation of subject matter: Patton’s mysterious injury. I have suspicions that Patton is not telling me everything he knows about his condition. For now, I believe the most logical course of action is to observe his actions to see if I can uncover any clues and to monitor healing.”

He clicked the stop button. This, truly, was one of the only times where Logan Sanders felt truly perplexed.

* * *

Patton had just closed the door to his bedroom when he noticed a familiar yellow and gray-clad figure perched on the edge of his bed. “My my, I always knew you were the clever one of the bunch, Patton, but I had no idea you could pull something like _that_ off,” Deceit suddenly said, turning his head toward Patton to reveal a smirk.

Patton tilted his head. “What are you talking about? I … I told them, didn’t I? Wait, what are you doing up here?”

“Oh, I had no idea what I was doing, honestly, and I’ll be sure to take ages telling you what I came here to tell you. But back onto you, my dear Father Figure. I just loved how you really _relinquished_ every last little detail to them, especially the part where you told them it was all their fault that you’re even in this state.”

“But that’s not true!”

Deceit closed the gap between them with slow strides as he spoke. “Then why keep the real cause from them? Why keep handing me this beautiful undoing?”

Patton steadily backed up until his back was against the door, doing everything in his power to shrink away from Deceit’s piercing gaze. “Because,” Patton looked genuinely lost for a moment before finding his footing again, “it’s like I said before, I’m not adding another noodle to their pasta salad!”

Deceit gave him a briefly quizzical look before evening his expression out again. “I know exactly what that means.”

“I don’t want anyone to have to walk on eggshells around me. It hurts, sure, but they never _mean_ to hurt me.”

“I’ve never heard _that_ one before, certainly not in our last little discussion.” Deceit rolled his eyes and gave a flip of his hand. “How much longer do you intend to pander to me? At first, it was rather fun but now it’s just getting tiring. I’m definitely not getting worried at all.”

Patton eased enough to crack a small smile. “You don’t have to worry about this anymore, Dee. I think that now that they know this much, maybe things will get better and I won’t even have to bring it up,” he said, not knowing when he had begun holding Deceit’s hands.

Deceit sighed, looking down at where the two were connected and back up into Patton’s warm brown eyes. “I hope for your sake that’s true.”

He sunk out without another word, leaving Patton with an uncertain feeling in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How we feelin', fam? You ready for what's coming next? I hope so!
> 
> See you next Monday!


	3. Shatter Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? _You_ , not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton _had_ gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we _are_ so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You _need_ to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a _field_ in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, “Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. _A thought._ He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. _Curse these full hands!_ He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are _physically hurting you_. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

_You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying._

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a _bit_ more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, _I_ can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

_You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done._

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

_YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away._

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny _tinks_ as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You _are worthless._

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

* * *

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

_I love you._

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all ready to stone me to death now? As always, I value your feedback. _It fuels me._
> 
> See you next Monday!


	4. Patton Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst has come to pass. What will the main three (and Janus) do without Patton?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Hey guys, so in rereading some areas, I saw that there were a few OOC moments, so I decided to do some fixes to hopefully better accommodate where these characters are in the canon timeline. Big thanks to the amazing [Freckled_Scarfy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_Scarfy/pseuds/Freckled_Scarfy) for beta-reading and offering such inspiration throughout the whole process!

Virgil didn’t dare move from where he stood, once cradling Patton’s head. Now, there was barely a sign that he’d ever been there, only weeping shards left in his wake. It was starting to soak into Virgil’s pants and hoodie sleeves, but he didn’t notice. All he could see was the sinister blue covering the table and flowing onto the floor. His heart exploded in his ears, nearly deafening in the silence that gripped them.

It was kind of funny, really. Virgil had such a penchant for being wrong when he got into one of his moods. So why was it that the one time he wanted so desperately to be wrong, he wasn’t? One of his worst fears had come true and he’d been powerless to stop it. The universe could be so cruel.

“P-Patton… wh-why did it have to be Patton, of all sides?” Roman softly sobbed. He still held on to the splintered fragments of Patton’s hand.

Logan wiped at his eyes with his shirtsleeve and readjusted his glasses. Blue fingerprints lingered on the frames. “There was nothing else we could’ve done.”

Virgil swallowed thickly. “Wh-why was he so afraid to  _ talk _ to us about this?” he asked.

Roman puffed up. “He wasn’t! How dare you even suggest that  _ we _ were the ones to put him into this situation!” he cried, tears mixing with the puddles of bright blue. Logan put a firm hand on his shoulder and for once in his life, Roman backed off.

“Alright, Sir Jumps-a-lot,” Virgil started, but was caught off guard by a little golden orb floating through the window. “Is … what is that?” Two more rose from where Patton had been sitting. They drifted closer to the center of the table where Patton’s shards still rested. Once over him, they simply hovered, absorbing the blue essence beneath them. “What are they doing?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen this happen before,” Roman replied, transfixed on the sight of the thoughts.

All at once, they became restless, boiling rapidly beneath the surface and madly flitting around the room like three loose Golden Snitches. “Hit the decks!” Roman cried, taking cover beneath the table. Virgil followed.

One just missed Logan before he dropped beneath the table. They grew and quickened, slamming into the walls with deafening shrieks. The castle shook with every blow. “Oh God oh God oh God,” Virgil mumbled under his breath, like praying would send these abominations away.

A huge crash sent rocky shrapnel flying in every direction. Virgil felt the impact of several smaller pebbles against his body. Then it was quiet. Virgil finally uncovered his head after a few seconds and looked around. Giant bus-sized holes gaped fervently on three walls, like the castle itself was crying out. Pieces of elegant stonework laid broken on the ground amid the tattered ruins of some of Roman’s finest tapestries. Dust lingered in the air.

“Are you all unharmed?” came Logan’s voice.

Virgil nodded, still in awe of the destruction that lay around them.

Roman looked devastated. “ _ I’m _ fine, but look what those boorish orbs did to my precious palace! What  _ were _ those things?” He walked over to one of the holes and put his hand on the edge of it. Almost as soon as his hand hit, he jerked it back with a hiss.

“They were thoughts,” Logan started, walking over to Roman with a small first aid kit in hand, “that appeared to have absorbed Patton’s essence.”

“… And?” Roman asked.

Logan rubbed some burn ointment onto Roman’s hand and began to bandage it. “Those thoughts appear to have his power. If they were troublesome before, then that must mean—”

“They intend to wreak havoc here, too,” Roman interrupted.

Logan cleared his throat. “Yes. But I wonder … Could they bring him back?”

Virgil’s and Roman’s eyes went wide. “You really think those things out there are the key to reviving Patton? They’re monsters! Patton isn’t a monster!” Virgil bit.

“That wasn’t what I was implying. Those thoughts acted rashly when exposed to his essence because Patton was in a state of turmoil before he … Didn’t you notice that when you touched it, you began to feel things you didn’t normally feel?” said Logan.

“Well yeah, but aren’t people supposed to be sad when they lose someone they l— care about?” Virgil asked.

“Nice save,” said Roman.

“In  _ people _ , yes, but we are not people. We are facets of a whole personality, hence we cannot take many intricacies from another side without some sort of medium, which brings me back to the point. If Patton’s stray thoughts have enough of his essence within them, then perhaps they are enough to resurrect him,” Logan explained.

“What other choice do we have?” asked Roman. “We can’t just let those rogue ruminations run rampant through the realm.”

“Then it’s settled. We must go after these manifestations with due haste,” Logan said. “Perhaps it would be better to each take on one of these creatures. If my calculations are correct, we don’t have long to get them back before they become inert. Although it would make my job easier if we didn’t have to worry about trivial emotions getting in the way … I certainly don’t want to pick up the slack from Patton’s absence.”

“How can you even say that? Are you sure  _ you’re _ not a dark side in disguise?” asked Virgil.

“Not the time, Virgil,” Roman chided. Virgil growled in response. “How do you know we’re on a time limit? And how are we supposed to fight these thoughts?”

“Simple mathematics. It took nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the essence on my hands to stop affecting me in a way that hindered me. As for how to go about defeating them, I suspect you may be able to help, Roman,” said Logan.

“Oh sure, you didn’t want to help me earlier but now I  _ have _ to help you. Pah!” Roman said, throwing his hands in the air. Instantly, both Logan and Virgil sported jester’s costumes with squeaky swords at their sides while Roman was decked out in full chainmail armor.

Virgil shot an indignant look to Roman, who was snickering at his handiwork. “You can’t seriously expect us to go up against those with these,” he spat, motioning to his novelty weapon.

“Virgil is right. We wouldn’t be able to fight effectively with this,” Logan said. “We will also need a way to transport the creatures back, but I may have a solution for that.” He conjured up three small glass jars.

“Ugh, fine,” Roman groaned. He waved his hand and the two were changed into more fitting clothes: a purple rogue outfit and dagger for Virgil and for Logan, blue starred wizard’s robes and a magic staff. “Better?”

Virgil, who had been covertly admiring his garb, put one hand behind his head and said, “Whatever. Now can we please go?”

“We have exactly three hours, fifty-eight minutes, and twenty seconds to bring these thoughts back before his essence leaves them,” Logan said, waving his hand and conjuring a countdown timer for all of them.

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Virgil.

Roman nodded. “Let’s get this pony rolling!”

“I’m sorry, there are ponies involved? That would be a much faster method of travel than walking,” Logan pointed out.

Roman almost countered that but took a moment to think. “You’re right,” he said, conjuring some horses. “Now let’s go!”

With that, the sides mounted their horses with varying degrees of difficulty and set off in three separate directions.

* * *

Roman was usually so happy to be riding in the Imagination. Nothing beat the feeling of the wind through his hair, the steady bouncing of the horse’s gait, or the rhythmic pounding of hooves on the ground.

But this time, he could find no joy atop his trusty mount. Not with his thoughts racing faster.

Instead, he kept his body poised like a jockey and let the horse do the work. She always knew where he needed to go. Thankfully, the path was a little easier to see since one of the loose Eldritch abominations carved its way through the lush evergreen forests. He still couldn’t believe any of this was real. Not even an hour ago, they had all been sitting around the Round Table, poised to discuss video ideas. Now, they were all on a life-or-continued-death quest to stop Patton’s thoughts from destroying everything in enough time to revive him. Even he thought that plotline was a bit contrived. Nevertheless, here he rode, off to accomplish the task at hand like the hero Patton believed him to be.

A flash of blue whizzed by in Roman’s periphery. He pulled the reins hard and wheeled his horse around. Another subtle movement shuffled in the undergrowth to his right. He dismounted as quietly as he could and drew his sword. The leaves rustled again. He slowly stalked toward them, ready to pounce. Suddenly, a blue toad jumped out from the foliage and onto Roman’s chest briefly before saying, “Tag, you’re it!” and hopping quickly away.

Roman blinked. “Well that’s new,” he mumbled to himself. He sheathed his sword and looked at the toad still hopping away. It slowed, turned around, and stared for a moment before hopping back toward Roman.

“Aren’t you gonna chase me?” it asked from a distance. That voice sounded so familiar …

“I’m sorry, fair frog, but I can’t play with you. I’m on an urgent quest to find a rampaging beast. You haven’t happened to see one around here, have you?” asked Roman.

The toad brought one little arm up to its chin in thought. “Hmm, I don’t think I’ve seen one around here …” Its eyes shone. “Oh, a quest! Can I come with you? It sounds so much more fun than playing tag with myself! Please please pleeeeeeeease!” it said, bouncing in place.

Roman, understandably, was a little put-off by this toad. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. You’re much too small to fight, and this may be the most difficult quest I will ever go on.” He made his way back to his horse. The toad followed.

“Please? I promise I won’t get in the way!” said the toad, clinging to Roman’s boot with tears in its eyes.

Roman sighed. “Fine, but you stay in the saddlebag,” he huffed.

The toad binkied happily in little circles. “Yay! We’re going on a quest! We’re going on a quest! I don’t know what we’ll do but hey, we’ll make up all the rest~!” it sang. It leapt into Roman’s arms. “Onward to adventure!” It pointed an arm out in front of them.

“Yeah,” Roman said, stuffing the toad in his saddlebag with much protest. He pulled the countdown timer out of the bag on his belt.  _ 03:01:42. _ Had he already been gone for this long? He stuffed it back in and hoisted himself onto the saddle.

Or rather, he would have if there weren’t a troublesome toad sitting there already. “Woooaah, is this what it’s like to be a horseback rider? How do I make it go?” it gleamed. It tried to whip the reins but could barely lift them without toppling over.

“Hold on a minute.  _ You _ don’t make it go anywhere,” Roman said, lifting the toad off the saddle and putting it back in the saddlebag. “I do.” He tried to mount once more to find the toad sitting on top of the horse’s head. “What the …! How do you keep doing that?” He grabbed the toad again and put him back in the saddlebag, making sure to fasten it this time.

Yet again, the toad appeared before him, this time sitting on the horse’s neck. “Doing what?” it innocently asked. And yet again, Roman turned to stuff the toad back in, only to find three others already in there.

“What in the name of accumulating amphibians is going on here?!” Roman shouted. “Why are there four of you?!”

“Huh? Oh, there aren’t four of me!” As if to illustrate his point, hundreds of blue toads emerged from hiding all around them. “It would get pretty boring if I was playing tag with only four of me!” One of them hopped on top of Roman’s head.

“Alright, enough! Only  _ one _ of you can come with me,” Roman said.

The toads just smiled. “Well why didn’t you say so?” All of them but the one on his head disappeared into mist, and the one that remained almost glowed. “Onward to adventure!” the toad cried again. Roman just put his head in his hands with a small groan.

The two were off and at a full gallop through the razed forest. About five seconds down the road, the toad said, “You wanna play I Spy? I do! I’ll go first! I spy with my little eye, something … red!”

“I really can’t play this right now, we need to be on the lookout for a rampaging monster,” Roman replied.

“Aww come on, this is an easy one, I know you can get it!”

“Not now.”

The toad huffed. “Well you’re no fun. What kind of adventure is this anyway?”

“Not the fun kind,” Roman said. “We’re running out of time.”

“Pssshhh, no we’re not. There’s always time for fun!” the toad exclaimed.

Roman grunted. “What part of urgent quest did you not understand? We only have so long to bring him back! Now please, make yourself useful and help me look for a rampaging beast.”

“Bring who back?” the toad asked. Roman stayed silent for a long while. “Didja hear me?”

“A very close friend of mine,” Roman finally replied.

“Oh,” said the toad. “So your friend is the monster?”

“No! Yes? I don’t know. It’s hard to explain,” Roman said, getting more agitated with each passing second.

The toad stayed silent for a moment. “What’s your friend’s name? Maybe I heard of ‘em,” said the toad.

“Patton,” came Roman’s solemn reply.

“Hey, that kinda sounds like my name!” squealed the toad.

“Oh?” said Roman. The edge of the path quickly approached. “Wait, this is where the destruction ends, he should be right here!” He tugged on the reins and dismounted quickly. The toad hopped to the ground.

“Hey, I think I remember something about this place,” it said.

Roman turned and squatted in front of the toad. “Tell me.”

The toad hopped in place. “This is where I first started playing tag with myself! There were so many more of me then … Maybe some of them are still hiding! Will you help me look?” he asked.

Roman huffed. “I have to find whatever cantankerous creature came this far, so I don’t have time to be playing around!”

The toad recoiled. “Wh-why are you yelling at me?” he whined, huge tears welling up in his eyes. His color dimmed a bit.

Roman put a hand against his cheek, tugging at his bottom eyelid. Why did this have to be happening to him now of all times? “Look, I’m sorry, little, uh … what did you say your name was again?”

The toad sniffled and wiped at his cheek. “L-Lilypadton,” he replied.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Lilypadton, but I just don’t have the time to—” Roman paused. “Wait a moment— Lilypadton. Lily-padton. Lily-Patton.” His eyes lit up. “By the horn of a unicorn! I’m surprised I didn’t think of this before!” He picked the blubbering toad up. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for!”

“I-I am?” Lilypadton asked.

Roman nodded, his own eyes shimmering a little. “Indeed. I didn’t expect a rampaging thought could turn into such a  _ tiny _ creature as yourself. From the way you cut down all of these trees, I thought you’d have been a bit bigger, but uh, no matter! You’re going to help me bring my friend back!” He hugged Lilypadton tight to his armor.

“Mister, you’re choking me!” Lilypadton croaked, thrashing about.

Roman immediately loosened his grip. “Sorry, I got a little carried away for a moment there. Let’s get you back to my castle with haste!” He put Lilypadton on his shoulder and climbed back on his horse, and instantly the horse went into a full gallop. The poor Pat-toad hung on to Roman’s pauldron for dear life.

Around ten minutes down the road, once Lilypadton had settled on the saddle horn, he suddenly spoke. “Did … did I do all of this?”

Roman looked down at him. “Yes, but I don’t think you meant to,” he said, bringing his gaze back up to the road.

“I think I remember something else,” Lilypadton softly said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We were in here somewhere. I … was taller. Like you! I saw you, too. You were so brave fighting that big scary kitty snakey goat thingy! But then you got hurt, and it was all because of me wanting to save that poor bunny, and I didn’t ever want you to get hurt but you did and if I hadn’t been so trusting and just done what you said in the first place, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and it wouldn’t have been my fault.” Lilypadton dimmed a little more. “B-but then you said, ‘I can’t believe you fell for that obvious trap, Patton. Didn’t you notice the footprints on the ground near it or the horrible stench coming from just behind the trees? It really surprises me, the way you can be so naive sometimes.’ And then, I felt my chest hurting real bad.”

Roman looked again at the little toad, wide-eyed and near frozen. He still had the little scar on his arm from the chimera’s attack, barely worth mentioning against the numerous others he had accumulated from other, more dangerous creatures. What startled him was hearing Patton’s perspective of this.

Lilypadton flopped against Roman’s breastplate. “I-I’m so sorry,” he whimpered.

Roman banished his chainmail and put a hand on Lilypadton’s back, pressing him gently into his chest. “You were holding onto that this whole time. And all because I made a stupid, offhand comment,” he said, hooking the reins around the saddle horn and holding his face in his newly freed hand. Fresh tears streaked over his gauntlets. Hadn’t there been enough crying for one day?

He continued. “Padre, please believe me when I tell you that I, in no way, hold that day against you. I shouldn’t have said what I said, because that’s not what I think of you at all. That day, I was so impressed that you wanted to help that slovenly little lapin, despite me telling you that you didn’t have to. And then you showed me how brave  _ you _ were, still helping that creature while that chimera roared at you. I still remember you telling it, ‘Now you just wait your turn, mister, I’ll pet you in a minute!’ It was one of the greatest adventures I’d ever had with you.” He stroked the little toad. Lilypadton croaked softly against his chest. “Had I known that my careless comment was something that led to you being in this state, I would have washed my own mouth out with soap.  _ I _ should be the one apologizing to you, Patton.”

Lilypadton smiled, eyes still brimming with tears. “Thank you, Roman,” he said, burrowing closer like a small child being held. Roman just smiled and rubbed Lilypadton’s little back, content to have not only found this toad in the first place, but a piece of Patton that he never knew before. Roman’s palace loomed in the distance. It wouldn’t be long before the two reached the remains of Patton prime.

Roman felt Lilypadton slowly transform in his hand, now nothing but a bright blue thought.

* * *

Logan, though not as well versed in the equine arts as Roman, found himself to be a natural when behind the reins of a beautiful, sure-footed Paso Fino. What wasn’t natural, however, was trying to do that while wearing a star-spangled bathrobe. Eventually, he’d had to stop his horse, conjure a hair tie, and bunch the loose fabric between his legs like a bike-riding lady in the 1890’s. “How asinine,” he mumbled to himself as he followed the river south.

If his calculations were correct, then he had approximately three hours and twenty-two minutes to find this troublesome thought and bring it back. In the distance, he could see storm clouds brewing over one particular location three klicks ahead of him. So, about another half hour before he would be there. Great.

Part of Logan felt heavy. The other half felt like nothing at all. All he knew was that the essence crusting on his hands had something to do with how he was experiencing these feelings. Much to his chagrin, Logan did, in fact, have feelings. Just never to the extremes that Patton did. And before, standing over Patton’s bleeding form and covered in essence, those emotions were nearly enough to knock him off of his feet. The one minute he needed to be the dependable one, he had frozen. He had no idea what to do to save Patton, and he’d shattered right in front of them. Now Logan could only hope that his working theory was correct.

He gripped the reins tighter, whipping them with a sharp, “Hyah!” The horse promptly obeyed and quickened its pace. He was getting close to the epicenter of the clouds. A small streak of blue quickly differentiated itself from the surrounding landscape. Could that be …

Within seconds, Logan had arrived as close to the entity as he felt comfortable and hid among the tall grasses. It had a vaguely humanoid shape with two large, white eyes, blurring through the breeze as if it were immaterial. He heard its singsong voice gently wafting over, sweet and soft against the stark, grassy landscape. Birds and other small animals gathered around it in Disney Princess fashion. Its voice rose and with it, the wind did, too. Dried leaves and loose grass circled around them.

“An elemental …?” Logan whispered. The wind died. The elemental whipped its head around to look directly at Logan. His heart hammered in his chest.

“WHO’S THERE?” it boomed. Logan nestled deeper into the grasses. “HMM, PEACH, PEAR—”

“Pineapple,” Logan inadvertently replied. He slapped a hand over his mouth. Suddenly, the wind was beneath him, hoisting him swiftly over to where the elemental hovered. Logan fumbled with the strap keeping his magic staff secured but couldn’t free it before he came to sit in front of this creature.

“I THOUght I heard someone over there. Oh, I’m sorry if I scared you, kiddo, I’m not going to hurt you! Here, let me help you up,” it said. It extended what Logan thought to be an arm toward him. Logan gingerly put his hand out, expecting to pass right through, but the elemental felt solid beneath his touch. “Do you have a name I can call you?”

“Um … Logan,” he responded.

“Logan … what a nice name. I think I used to know someone with that name. Maybe one of my kiddos?”

Logan tapped his chin. “You don’t sound like any elemental I’ve ever encountered before.”

“Elemental? Oh, no, not me. I’m just Sympathos,” Sympathos said.

All of the sudden, it hit Logan. “No wonder you sound so familiar. I believe I know who you really are. Patton, please come with me.”

“What’s that on your hands …?” Sympathos asked warily. The wind picked up a little bit.

“It’s essence,” Logan stated matter-of-factly. “Please, Patton, time is against us. We must return to Roman’s castle before it’s too late.”

Sympathos backed away. “M-my essence? And who’s Patton? I think I’d better stay here.” A particularly cold gust of wind whipped by them.

“ _ You’re _ Patton. Or, a part of him. One that’s doomed to fade in less than three hours unless you rejoin with your other pieces. Wouldn’t it be better to become whole again?”

Sympathos shrunk. “No, no, I … I don’t think I want to go with you,” he said. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not him. I … I can’t be him!” The wind picked up a bit more.

Logan had to hold onto his hat to keep it from sailing away. “Please calm down,” he pleaded, slowly striding toward Sympathos with his free hand up. Sympathos only backed away further. “You’re being irrational.”

The wind died once more, leaving only a deathly quiet over them. Sympathos brought his hands to his face. “No. I’m. NOT!” he shouted, rising up in a tornado’s winds and growing just as big. Hail began falling thunderously around Logan. He shielded himself as best he could with his arm, attempting to once again release his staff from its prison on his back. He finally got it and quickly cast a shielding spell around himself. Sympathos continued. “WHY IS IT IRRATIONAL TO NOT WANT TO GO WITH SOMEONE WHO HAS A PART OF ME SMEARED ALL OVER THEIR HANDS? WHY CAN I NOT BE AFRAID OF SOMEONE WHO HURT ME?”

Logan could only look up at the angry funnel cloud version of his friend. “Hurt you?” he yelled through the noise. “This essence on my hands was from trying to save you! Do you not remember?”

The winds roared. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT. THAT’S NOt what I meant,” Sympathos said, dying down into little more than a breeze. The hail turned into tiny raindrops, slowly getting bigger as he wept.

Logan dismissed most of the shielding spell, leaving only a portion above his head. He slowly walked over toward where Sympathos was crumpled on the ground. Every raindrop sent little bits of him rippling across his surface as if he, too, were made of water. “Then, would you enlighten me on what has you so disconcerted?” Logan gently asked. He sat down beside the entity, expanding the shield to cover Sympathos from the cloudburst.

Sympathos said nothing for a while, but Logan was more than keen to wait. He still had enough time to get him back, and he didn’t want to hurt the thought any more than he somehow already had. Finally, Sympathos spoke, “I’m not Patton. I know I’m not. But I have his memories. His thoughts. His pain. I saw you in almost all of the memories. Especially the ones where you would tell me, ‘Your feelings are clouding your judgement,’ or something like that. Then I would feel this … this awful pain in my core.” He looked up at Logan. “How can I still have the pain that he had but have no way to know how to deal with it? How can I trust you when all I have are these aching memories?” The rain worsened as Sympathos sobbed.

Logan didn’t quite know what to do.  _ Had _ he hurt Patton without ever knowing it? He thought back to a few months ago, when Patton had first revealed his injuries. They were so profound then, like they had been less than an hour ago at the Round Table. Wait, right after he told Patton to let the past go, those injuries worsened. How many other times had his input splintered across Patton’s chest?

He had to make this right.

He put one gentle hand on Sympathos’s back. “I … don’t think it would be reasonable, not after having experienced such pain by my own hand,” Logan carefully said. “I never intended to harm you, but whether I meant it or not is inconsequential to the truth of the matter. I still hurt you. And for that, I am truly, deeply sorry. I just wish I’d have known about your condition sooner so I could have made amends sooner. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess if only I’d noticed sooner …” He felt a tear of his own threatening to leak out.

Sympathos looked up at him. Bittersweet laughter emanated from the entity, piercing through the rain in matching melancholy. “How could you have known what I never said?” He sat up as much as a spectral entity could and leaned against Logan. “I forgive you. Maybe it’s time I started trusting you all more.”

Logan smiled a bit and the tears silently rolled. “I’d like that,” he said softly. Logan wasn’t used to dealing with emotions; that much went without saying. But maybe it was time to try, if for nothing— or no one— else but Patton.

After another moment, the weight against his side faded and only a floating blue orb remained. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he retrieved the jar from where it hung on his belt and gently guided the thought in. Here, at least, he would be safe until it was time to reunite with the other pieces.

As Logan remounted his horse, he noticed the rain had stopped and in its wake, a tiny rainbow appeared.

* * *

Virgil swore to himself that after today, he would never, EVER, get back on a horse.

It was too hard to get on the stupid thing for one. For another, there were no visible controls. He had no idea how this beast even knew what to do, and what it did was try to take off with Virgil hanging off its side. Probably Roman’s idea of a joke. Again. Now, the ride was hurting his butt. He failed to see how his day could get any worse— a hard-earned feat from a side such as himself.

Now here he was, holding onto this animal for dear life as it clattered up the mountain paths, thinking of all the ways this would fail; there were so many ways he could plummet to his own death, and then they’d have to come up with some horribly saccharine double funeral for him and Patton, or maybe they would just completely forget about him or disown him because he failed—

Without warning, the horse reared, sending Virgil flying into some nearby brush. The horse ran off, evident only by the disappearing sound of hoofbeats. For a while, Virgil just laid there, staring up at the canopy above him.  _ Stupid horse. I didn’t want to ride you anyway, _ he wanted to say. A grunt is what came out. He slowly started getting up, hands hurting from where he pushed into the ragged undergrowth. 

He looked at the path ahead. A huge earthen wall blocked most of the path. “What the— when did that get there?” Virgil said. He eyed it warily. It seemed stable enough … Maybe he could climb over to the other side? He touched it with his dagger. The blade pierced through easily, yet the wall still held. Still, there was no way he was going to scale this monstrosity, not without at least twenty different safety lines and a helmet. And anyway, it wasn’t like he couldn’t just walk around it. So he did.

And immediately regretted it.

A gargantuan, blue-furred bear loped on the other side, coming to stand on its hind legs. That thing had to be at least twelve feet tall! A small, “eek!” escaped Virgil’s lips as he moved to hide back behind the wall. Maybe the bear hadn’t seen him. All at once, the wall crumbled into dust, leaving Virgil facing away from a fearsome predator. He slowly turned his head to see the bear looking straight at him. With wide eyes, he slowly turned back and bolted back down the mountain.

Virgil checked behind him. Of course the bear was galloping after him. “Crap crap crap crap!” he wheezed, willing his legs to go faster. The bear was gaining on him.  _ Think, Virgil, think! What would Roman do? I can’t believe I just asked myself that. Uh, trees! Bears can’t climb trees, right? _

Virgil leapt onto the nearest tree and scrambled up the trunk as best he could. Which is to say, not very well. Still, it was enough to confuse the bear, which bought him a little extra time to climb. The bear stood on its hind legs and started climbing after him. “Oh, come on!” Virgil cried, inching out onto a sturdy looking branch.

The bear, barely needing to get off the ground to reach Virgil, grabbed his hood in its mouth and tugged. Virgil clung tighter to the branch. The bear kept tugging and Virgil could hear wood splintering. “Oh God oh God oh God this is it. This is how I go.” The branch broke with a sharp crack, leaving him dangling from the bear’s mouth. He released the branch and felt around his belt for his dagger. Anxious fingers slipped over the scabbard. Eventually, he freed it and started swinging wildly until the blade found purchase.

He opened his eyes and surveyed his damage. The dagger caught on the bear’s thick pelt as if it were a stick. The bear whined a little but was otherwise unharmed. It nudged the blade away from where it struck, stood on two legs, and released Virgil’s hood.

Virgil fully expected to hit the hard ground. He had seen it coming. But he didn’t even make it down past the bear’s legs. The bear was … holding him. Like a baby. And nuzzling him with a big, wet nose, making contented vocalizations. Was it … loving on him?

_ No fall. No get hurt. _

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Y-you’re telepathic?”

The bear licked his cheek gently and looked into his eyes.  _ I talk you only way I know. I keep you safe. _ The bear started walking back up the mountain, still carrying Virgil in his arms.

“What are you?” Virgil asked.

_ Pattington, _ came the bear’s reply.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Virgil.

_ Burrow. I keep you safe. I love like own cub. _

All too soon, the two were in a clearing off the side of the path. At least, it used to be a clearing. There had to be hundreds of birdhouses in the trees and little bunny burrows dotting the cliffs. Deer, squirrels, and rabbits scampered freely in the clearing without worrying that the bear— Pattington— would hurt them. He lowered Virgil gently to the ground.

_ You play other cubs. I get dinner, _ said Pattington with one last nuzzle against Virgil. He sank back onto four paws.

Virgil was struck by this odd behavior. What exactly was this bear even trying to accomplish? He put a gentle paw against Virgil’s chest and disappeared into the forest. It did little to still his racing heartbeat or dull the edge off his worn-out nerves. Now seemed like as good a time as any to get the heck away from here; that bear was too far away to notice him leave.

Virgil clambered through the small bit of forest between him and the path. He started running up through where the orb had clearly razed. It didn’t take long to find its destination. A giant indentation in the mountain gave its secrets away. That much, at least, Virgil expected. What he didn’t expect was to find a slightly smaller bear shaped depression nested in the larger one. On the ground beneath them lay huge paw prints that faded as they got closer to the burrow.

Wait. That bear. He had blue fur. And was very snuggly. And very overprotective. And had a pun-filled name.

“Patton?”

As if summoned by hearing his true name, Pattington appeared behind Virgil.  _ Cub, why wander from burrow? _

Virgil could hardly believe it. Patton was here the whole time! “Pat … I was looking for  _ you _ ,” Virgil said, happy tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

_ Why cub cry? Pattington not go far, _ Pattington said, approaching Virgil. Virgil closed the gap between them and clung to Patton’s neck, sobbing into his soft fur.

“I thought I’d never find you after y-you died in my arms … We have to bring you back to the castle!” Virgil cried.

_ Me no go. You stay. Let me love you forever. _ The bear sat back and hugged Virgil to his chest.

Virgil pushed back a little, just enough to look into Pattington’s eyes. “But all of that can happen when you’re you again! There’s no reason why it can’t! Please, you have to come with me!”

_ Virgil not like my affection in Patton-form. Pattington different, _ Pattington keened mournfully.

Very few things caught Virgil off guard, but boy, if this didn’t completely knock him to the ground. “What are you talking about?” asked Virgil a little frantically.

Pattington put his forehead against Virgil’s. Frenzied images flashed before his eyes.

_ He saw himself through Patton’s eyes. They both were in their old clothes. They had just finished watching a movie or something and sat talking in Virgil’s room. It was getting close to the end of their visit. Patton went in for a hug and Virgil backed off with wide eyes. “Woah, what are you doing?” past Virgil asked. _

_ “Oh, I um, I thought that since we’ve been getting so close …” Patton’s voice trailing off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” _

_ “No no, it’s fine, just uh … warn me first,” past Virgil replied. He opened his arms a little, and Patton took that opening. And goodness, Virgil could  _ feel _ his satisfaction. _

_ The images shifted into a later instance. Patton was having a rough day. Despite it, he still made time to go to Virgil’s room for their weekly get-together. Roman and Logan had apparently been arguing or snooping or something; that part Virgil couldn’t tell. The two munched on warm cookies and milk while some Disney movie played on Virgil’s TV. Patton leaned against Virgil as the movie played. Virgil just sat there. All of the sudden, he began shuddering against Patton. He looked to Virgil, who appeared to be hyperventilating. _

_ Patton sat back up. “Virgil?” he asked. “Are you okay?” _

_ Virgil looked at him and started calming down. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he shakily replied. “Kinda glad to be able to move again. This might be too much for one night.” _

_ “Oh,” he softly said. And goodness, Virgil could  _ feel _ the pain in Patton’s chest. _

Virgil was snapped back to the mountainous forest, those memories still searing in his skull. Pattington softly whined in front of him.  _ Pattington too much. Too much for Virgil to bear. _

So that’s what it was. “Pat, I … you’ve got it all wrong,” Virgil started. “Sure, you can be very … touchy. Sometimes a little too much for me. But you have to understand that I don’t think  _ you’re _ too much. A Patton hug is one of the best things to have right after a panic attack or when I’m down! Those casual little touches help to ground me. It just startled me when you went for it right away that first time. And that panic attack that you saw … I wasn’t overstimulated because of you.

“We were watching Cinderella that night. It got me in my head too much, thinking that maybe we had missed our chance to fix things with our ex, and we would never find love again. If anything, you snapped me out of it!” Virgil held Pattington’s paw in his hands. “So please … Please come back with me. I … I want Patton back. I  _ need _ Patton back.”

Pattington’s eyes shone with fresh tears. With one last nuzzle, Pattington said,  _ Thank you. I love you, Virgil, _ and morphed back into a tiny blue sphere. Virgil got the jar from his belt, very gently enclosing the thought within it.

“I love you too, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is coming a little earlier than normal, but everyone needs a little fluff to pad out the angst. It's been rough, I know. Hang in there, we're almost through. Aaaaaaaand the next chapter will be the longest, soooo! And I _just now_ realized that I accidentally put this in the Royality tag. Big whoops on my part, because there's no romantic endgame here, just familial fluff ^^' 
> 
> See you next Monday!


	5. Patton Quest 2: Finding Emo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They got all the pieces, but will it be enough to bring Patton back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Like the last chapter, this one also has some edits for OOC moments. Thanks again to the wonderful [Freckled_Scarfy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_Scarfy/pseuds/Freckled_Scarfy) for your help!  
> Edit the second: Okay so not that I'm unhappy with this in the least, but I will be returning parts of this chapter to their original softness because _we all need soft bois._ If you'd like the more canon-compliant version, I'll be posting that in full soon enough. Thanks for bearing with me through this whole thing.

Logan was the first to return to the castle. The thought attached to his belt nearly burned against him. This theory had to be right. It just had to be. He didn’t know what they could possibly do if this didn’t work; none of them were cut out to fill Patton’s metaphorical (and perhaps literal) shoes. Cripes, he needed to get these thoughts under control before he lost himself. That was more challenging with so few distractions around him.

Virgil strode into the castle at the two-hour one-minute mark. “Where’s your horse, Virgil? Did Roman not give you one?” Logan asked.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” came Virgil’s clipped reply.

Logan adjusted his glasses. He never understood those sardonic mannerisms, but nonetheless, he continued. “I trust you recovered one of Patton’s thoughts?” Virgil just nodded and held up his jar. “Good. Now, we just have to trust that Roman did the same.”

The two stayed in silence awhile, Virgil from gazing into the jar in his hands while Logan kept watch. Suddenly, Virgil broke the silence, “So, L, how’d you deal with the bear? I know you’re really not a touchy-feely side, all that affection must’ve really gotten under your skin.” He had a contented smirk on his face.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked. “I didn’t negotiate with any bear.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. I had to reason with an elemental rendition of this thought,” Logan said, holding up his jar briefly. “It appeared to only want validation, so I gave it, and it reverted back into this. There was no physical contact of any kind.” Well, maybe not _no_ physical contact, but he highly doubted that it was less than what Virgil experienced.

“Huh,” Virgil replied. Whatever he was about to say next died on his lips when Roman came gallivanting into the room on horseback, cradling something in his hands. He had also abandoned his armor somewhere. Honestly, was he the only one who didn’t lose what wasn’t firmly affixed to his person?

Roman gracefully leapt off of his horse, dismissing the calm mare. “Oh good, you’re already here! I’ve got one thought,” he said, revealing what he had in his hands. A blue thought floated in his palm. “Huh, that’s odd. This used to be a frog.”

Virgil snickered.

“And just _what_ are you laughing at, Chuckleberry Finn?” Roman bit.

“The Prince and the Frog!” Virgil laughed. “I couldn’t think of anything more fitting for you!”

Roman grumbled, but before he could lash back, Logan spoke, “Alright, enough, both of you. We still have a job to do. Bring Patton’s thoughts over here.” He strode over to the Round Table where Patton’s graying shards lay and opened his jar. Roman and Virgil followed suit, releasing theirs as well.

The thoughts vibrated as they drew near to each other and their fallen host. Slowly, they melded together and sunk down where Patton’s chest used to be. They melted and spread out into his limbs, igniting his broken form in blue. Slowly, the most distal pieces of Patton began knitting themselves back together, the healing force working its way up his body. “I-it’s working,” Logan uttered, breaking into a heartfelt smile. The others appeared misty-eyed as it moved closer and closer to Patton’s core, until it stalled at the edges of his torso.

“Wait, why isn’t it going any further?” Roman asked. “Didn’t we get all of the pieces?”

“Oh no oh no oh no please don’t tell me he can’t come back!” Virgil cried. He held Patton’s cold hand, pleading with the unnaturally lax face beneath him. “Pat, please, you have to come back! You have to!” He put his forehead to Patton’s, shivering. “You have to, y-you have to!” The dam burst, and he sobbed inconsolably against their fallen friend.

“Virgil,” Roman said shakily, and Logan could see Roman trying so desperately to maintain his composure. It was getting more and more difficult to keep his own just watching them.

“I don’t understand. It was working … We got all three pieces,” said Logan. He felt his core start to shake.

“There were four,” came a voice from behind them.

Logan and Roman turned abruptly, startled by the reptilian side behind them. “Deceit!” Logan yelled, pointing a finger at him.

Roman drew his sword. “Why are you here?” he growled.

Deceit put his hands up in submission. “I came here because I definitely wasn’t worried at all that something horrible happened to Patton,” he said. “Now tell me, you got all four pieces, didn’t you?”

Logan and Roman were both quite confused by this. “What do you mean there are four? There’s only three holes in this room! Where would this alleged ‘other one’ have gotten out?” Roman shouted.

Deceit quirked his eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked.

Roman growled, but Logan put his hand on his shoulder. “One could have potentially followed another, but I only remember seeing three of them in here. Where did the last one come from?” Logan asked.

Deceit seemed to realize something. “Ah, I suppose you didn’t see it, then. Shortly after those thoughts tastefully redecorated your palace, one split in half. Almost reminds me of something else,” he said.

Roman stepped forward. “How do we know we can trust you? For all we know, _you_ were the one that put Patton in this state!” he screamed.

“My my, you never fail to make your sentiments heard, do you, my fair Prince?” Deceit replied. “Perhaps it would behoove you to know that while you three remained ignorant to this problem, I was trying to convince him to tell you about it.”

The tension between them was thick enough to cut. “Are you insinuating that Patton trusted you more than us?” Logan said.

“Oh, of _course!_ He obviously told me this mind-blowing secret of his own free will, I hadn’t the slightest premonition about what was going on beforehand and I certainly don’t care what happens now!”

“You _dare_ come in here just to— to—” Roman started, but he was too angry to complete the rest of the sentence. Logan put his hand on Roman’s shoulder again.

“Roman, look at me,” Logan calmly said. Roman struggled to break eye contact with Deceit. “He doesn’t mean that. He’s trying to tell us that he figured it out on his own and wants to save Patton just as much as we do.”

Roman looked directly into Logan’s eyes. “Then _why_ can’t he just say it?” he said, angry tears freely flowing.

“Would you believe me if I did?”

Roman looked back to Deceit and wiped at his eyes, sighing heavily. Logan didn’t know whether it was an expression of exasperation or an attempt to vent such sentiments, but he supposed it didn’t matter after what he said next. “I want to. Just like I want to believe that Patton is well and we don’t have a video that needs planning. But none of that is true and pretending won’t change that.”

Deceit looked to the side and then to the ground. “You know, you could make a video inspired by this.”

Roman paused. “What?”

“You could make a video inspired by this,” Deceit repeated. “Consider this an attempt at goodwill on my part.”

Logan could see how hard Roman wanted to make a clever retort, but eventually yielded. “Alright. Just this once … I’ll trust you—” he said falteringly.

Deceit gave a genuine smile. “Thank you, Roman.”

“—but the first time you make any move against any of us, I won’t hesitate.”

“I’d expect nothing less from the ever-impartial Roman,” said Deceit with a slight tip of his hat.

“So now that we all understand each other, we still have one more piece of Patton to get and exactly one hour, forty-five minutes and sixteen seconds to do it,” Logan said. “Deceit, you and I will go out and calculate the most probable path that this ponderous piece took. Roman, I need you to try to calm Virgil. I have a feeling it’ll take all of us to get this last one.”

Roman nodded, hesitating to turn away from them just yet. “Logan, please be careful. Make sure the bananaconda doesn’t strike when your back is turned,” he stage-whispered.

Deceit replied, “I’d love nothing more than to do just that,” and turned Logan around toward the hole where the door used to be. Logan knew he didn’t quite mean that. He also didn’t particularly care for the physical contact but made no move against it in case that threat rang true.

* * *

No matter how silver-tongued that snake was, Roman would never trust Deceit. Sure, this once he had put his reservations aside, but it was only a passing thing. It could _only_ be a passing thing. If it weren’t, what would that say about him, the hero, the Mindscape’s golden boy, to be in cahoots with someone so shady? He really didn’t want to think about it much further.

So, instead of moping about it like Virgil would, he opted to at least attempt comforting the pitiful sobweb of a side. Too bad the one who was so good at it was dead on a table. _Think, Roman, what would Patton do in a time like this?_ It took him a moment, but eventually he slowly reached out with a shaky hand. _Come on, Roman, you can do the comfort actions!_ He finally touched down on Virgil’s head, gently patting him with very stiff movements.

“Um, there there,” Roman started. Still Virgil cried, barely acknowledging Roman’s presence. He definitely wasn’t cut out for this. _Quick, what else does Patton do? What are the comfort words??_ “Uh, everything’s going to be alright. We still have a chance to get him back!”

That got Virgil’s attention. “What … You’re just saying that. How could you know?” Virgil blubbered, reddened eyes gleaming up at Roman. “Can’t you see he’s still missing a huge chunk? Oh, Pat—” He gripped Patton’s hand a little tighter.

Roman’s own heart clenched at the sight. “He is for now, but it’s because we missed a piece.”

“But there were only three thoughts in here! How could another one exist?” Virgil cried.

“One pulled a Roman and Remus.”

Virgil was taken aback. “It split? How do you know for sure?”

“… _Someone_ saw it happen.”

“Who? You or Logan?”

“Neither of us, it was—”

“Are you telling me that Patton saw it?”

“What? No! Maybe? I-I don’t know!”

“Then who—” Virgil suddenly looked past Roman and a fearful look flashed across his face. Fear quickly turned into a murderous snarl. Oh no, they were back. “You,” Virgil growled. Roman had to hold him back from lunging at Deceit. “Let me go! He has to have something to do with this! Don’t you want to save Patton??”

“Agh, when did you get so strong?” Roman wheezed, buckling a little against Virgil but holding firm nonetheless. “He wants to help. He was out there helping Specs find the way while you were in here turning this room into a second bawl-room.”

Virgil calmed down a little, but barely enough to make a difference. “But how can you be so sure he’s pointing us in the right direction? I mean, he’s _Deceit!_ He’s not exactly a beacon of truth!”

Deceit just rolled his eyes.

“Look, I don’t fully trust him either, but it’s the only chance we have of getting Patton back,” said Roman. He softened his voice. “Don’t _you_ want to save Patton?”

With a last tormented look at Deceit, Virgil quit struggling. “Yeah,” he croaked.

“I promise this will be okay. I already threatened him with violence if he so much as twitches without our permission,” Roman added.

Virgil gave a little lopsided grin and wiped at his eyes. “I’m going to complain the whole way.”

Roman just smiled and clapped a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Come on, you pitiful sobweb, let’s go get Patton.”

“What a _touching_ scene, Roman, Virgil,” Deceit said with a little clap. “Keep it up, we clearly have all day to accomplish this heroic feat.”

“Actually, we are down to one hour, thirty-six minutes, and forty-three seconds,” Logan added. “Given my estimates, we barely have enough time to traverse the landscape on horseback and return here.”

Roman suddenly had an idea. “I hope none of you get airsick, because I might just have a better way to get there,” he said with a devilish grin.

“You _know_ how I feel about flying,” Virgil bit, obviously shaky again.

“I do, but I also know that you would overcome it when the situation is dire, and this situation is dire and getting down to the wire. Now, everyone outside!” Roman cried, running through one of the destroyed walls. He put two fingers to his lips and let out a sharp trilling whistle. Distant wingbeats answered his call. Within seconds, a giant red dragon heavily touched down just outside the destroyed palace gates. Her large, flying bison-like saddle gleamed in the sunlight, trimmed in gold and fitted with rubies. Roman turned to see the others looking with varied states of awe at the gorgeous dragon before them. “Cool, right? Her name is Serafina.”

Logan, whose mouth had been agape, spoke, “I would love to study this fine creature.”

“You really are extra,” Virgil said, shielding his eyes from the saddle’s glare.

“Certainly not too over-the-top,” Deceit agreed.

“Alright, no one asked you, Doltson Twins,” Roman retorted.

“Actually, you just did,” Logan said.

“Just get on the dragon!”

And with the help of a stepladder and Logan offering a hand up, they did. Roman grasped the reins that drooped from the Serafina’s horns. With a quick, “Hyah!” from Roman, she lifted off rapidly. She was far more fleet than she appeared. Soon, they cruised their way over the path that Logan had traveled earlier. The ride was mostly silent until about ten minutes in.

“We’ve deviated slightly off course, please turn us four degrees to the right,” Logan said.

“Excuse me, are _you_ the one driving the dragon? I know where I’m going,” Roman replied. It was mostly true; he had been closely monitoring the terrain for signs that a humongous orb had come this way, and those subtle bald patches in the prairies below pointed this way. At least, they had before they stopped several klicks ago.

“Oh, so you know my exact calculations for how, where, and in what direction this thought fragmented? Please show me your work,” said Logan.

“I’m gay, I can’t do math!”

“We all are, what does that matter? Now please change the course.”

“You know what? Never mind.” Roman begrudgingly did as he asked.

“Please keep it up you two, I’ve been _dying_ for some in-flight entertainment,” Deceit added with a wave of his glove. Virgil hissed and scooted closer to Logan.

Another ten minutes passed in awkward silence.

Once again, Logan was the one to break it. “There, between those hills,” he said, pointing to a cleft in the rock formations about a klick ahead of them. “That should be where it stopped.”

Roman grunted in response, still a little testy from being told how to do his job. Still, he could see some almost perfectly circular damage to the surrounding environment. He’d feel better about this when they touched down.

“Guys, something doesn’t feel right about this,” Virgil said softly.

“Are you in need of breathing exercises?” asked Logan.

Virgil shook his head. “It’s not anxiety. It’s more like … I just feel _bad.”_

“I feel it, too,” Deceit suddenly said.

Roman shook his head. “Don’t be dramatic, that’s my … job,” his voice faltered. The heaviness hit him without warning. “What is this?” he gasped.

The feeling only heightened as they got nearer. Even the smallest actions felt labored, like trying to move through molasses. Finally, the dragon touched down on a flat outcrop in front of a cave.

“If I had to hypothesize, I would say we’re approaching the last of Patton’s pieces,” Logan said. “This one must be projecting his emotions outward. Is this what it’s like to have an emotion? I’m not fond of this at all.”

“Then it’s time to get the one who is fond of feelings,” Roman said, nearly flopping out of the saddle. If he cared more, he would be beating himself up for that clumsy dismount, but he couldn’t with that overwhelming bad beating him to it. The others followed in a similar fashion. At least moving was easier on the ground. Roman petted Serafina one last time before summoning a torch and leading everyone into the cave.

As the troupe got further and further in, it became obvious that this was where the thought had ended up. Streaks of blue essence stained the walls, glowing dully in the firelight. In places, it dripped loud enough to echo through the rocky chambers. “Talk about aesthetic,” Virgil said quietly. A few hollow chuckles reverberated around them.

Something near them sounded.

All the sides flinched and Roman drew his sword. Little sniffles and sobs punctuated the dank air. Roman looked back. None of the sides were making any noise.

“Who’s there? Where are you?” Roman called out.

No one answered, but the muffled crying continued. Roman motioned for the others to stay back and snuck forward, trying to keep his eyes keen. Three steps in, and a little hiccup sounded near his right foot. He looked down to see a miniature version of Patton, no more than a few centimeters long, curled up on the ground facing a stalagmite. He himself glimmered lightly, enough to be obscured by the torchlight.

Roman knelt down carefully. “Patton?” he murmured. The others perked up, creeping closer to Roman.

Tiny Patton froze for a moment before turning his head to look at who called out to him. Roman could almost see a glimmer of joy flash across his face until it was killed by shame. “P-please go away, I don’t want you all seeing me like this,” he said in an impossibly tiny voice. Tiny Patton turned back toward the stalagmite, little body shivering with sobs.

“Can I at least help you get off the ground? That can’t be comfortable,” Roman said, reaching toward him. His hand passed right through.

Tiny Patton curled in tighter on himself. “N-no. I d-don’t deserve it.”

Roman didn’t quite know what else to try. “Um— do you want to talk about what’s made you more down than a baby duck?”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Tiny Patton blubbered. “I already know what you all really think about me.”

Logan squatted down beside Roman. “Oh, this again? Patton, we don’t think that you’re too sentimental, overbearing, or naive. Have we not already gone over this?” he said.

Tiny Patton’s glow dimmed a little, but he offered no further response.

“You’re really two for two, aren’t you?” Roman said.

“I merely thought that providing factual insight would be of some use. It always helps me,” Logan replied. “Comfort is not exactly my strong suit.”

“Clearly. Maybe … maybe he just needs to be reminded of what got the others calmed again. Tell me, Logan, Virgil, did the other thoughts tell you something about Patton’s state? Something about a passing comment that hurt him or anything?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, looking quite downtrodden.

“Mine did as well,” Logan said.

“Then maybe we should remind him of what we told them. I’ll go first,” Roman said, turning back to the crumpled miniature on the ground. “Padre, I remember the last time you came on an adventure with me. It was the most fun I’d had in here, even getting hurt by that chimera. But a stupid, regrettable comment I made back then hurt you far more than that chimera hurt me, and I didn’t even think about it then. Now that I know what you went through because of that, and for all of my actions that further spurred that perception, it makes me angry at myself for ever having said those things in the first place. So angry that I don’t want to do that again. I never meant to hurt you, but I am truly sorry that I did.”

Tiny Patton sat up and put his arms around his knees, leaning his head forward so his face was obscured by his bangs. “It hurt so much, that it was my fault. But it doesn’t change the fact that I _am_ naive. I didn’t even worry about that kitty goaty snakey thing when I should’ve. And who am I kidding? I’m not a dad. I’m too childish to be one,” he said, dimming a little more.

Virgil stepped forward and sat on the ground on the other side of Roman. “But that’s not true at all! I mean, yeah, you really like cartoons and bouncy castles and puppies, like, almost too much, but that’s only one part of you. I know I don’t always make my own feelings, uh … I mean, I have trouble expressing what I need. But you would always come in and brighten my days with your … dad-vice … and all that affection. I mean, you were there for me when I needed you, so um, I wanna be there for you, too.”

“Please save the dad jokes for when we get the real Patton back,” Logan said.

Tiny Patton peered up at Virgil through his hair. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I pushed myself onto you before you were ready. I was smothering you, all because I couldn’t get over my own heart’s wants first,” he said, tucking his head back down in his knees.

“Falsehood,” said Logan softly for once. “You may be sentimental, but that’s exactly what Thomas needs you to be. And though I may not fully understand it, it’s what— it’s what _I_ need you to be. We all do. None of us could ever do what you do as aptly as you do it. You are an important part of Thomas and I want to make that known more often to you.”

“But it takes all of you to keep me from making so many mistakes. I keep you from doing so many things just because I exist. How can you say that I’m not replaceable when I already know that I am?” Tiny Patton said, voice trembling.

The main three looked at each other. What else could they possibly say to convince this pint-sized Patton of his worth enough to convince him to rejoin with the real Patton? Deceit strode forward and nudged them aside to make room for himself directly in front of Tiny Patton. Roman gave an indignant noise at being pushed, but Logan moved wordlessly.

“How long will you keep telling yourself these lies, little one? We all know that’s my job,” Deceit said. Roman could almost see genuine concern on his scaly features.

Tiny Patton looked up. “Th-they’re not …” his voice trailed off in favor of a little sob.

“Oh, of course not. That’s why we’re here telling you just how important you are to us instead of letting you rot here until your body goes.” He softened his voice. “Please, just listen to what they’re telling you. They think so highly of you, so much so that they’re groveling at your feet in the most remote cave in the Imagination, yet you would seek to suffer at the hands of these misconceptions that have been misleading you this whole time. All because you care so much for all of us. Maybe it’s time that we returned the favor and cared for you.”

At first, Tiny Patton didn’t react. After a moment, he lifted his head, a misty smile on his face. “Thank you,” he said softly, moving to stand. Deceit stretched a hand toward him, and Tiny Patton climbed on with outstretched arms. Deceit brought Tiny Patton to his chest and held him close as he reverted back into an orb. Roman didn’t know what to think. Logan and Virgil were equally taken aback by Deceit’s previously unknown tenderness.

Deceit gently held the thought in his gloved hands and suddenly realized that the others were staring at him. “Admiring the view?” he said nonchalantly. He rose from where he was standing and started making his way back to the mouth of the cave. “Are you just going to stand there or did you lie when you said you wanted him back?”

“We do only have thirty-five minutes and seventeen seconds to return before our labors are in vain,” Logan said.

The others quickly fell into step. Soon enough, they were all back on Serafina and headed back to Roman’s castle.

“I don’t get it,” Virgil mumbled.

“Hmm?” Deceit hummed.

Virgil replied, “I used to think you were the snake that came to lead us astray, to be selfish for selfishness’ sake, but—”

“You’re just another part of Thomas like the rest of us,” Logan interrupted.

Roman huffed. “I hate to admit it, but you were the only one able to say what Patton needed to hear. Maybe you’re not all bad.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Deceit replied.

The rest of the ride was in comfortable silence. When they got back to the palace, Deceit broke off from the rest of the group, opting to stay at the room’s entrance. He handed the thought to Roman. “Just, tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for him,” he said, turning to walk away.

Roman felt conflicted. _You know the heroic thing to do, Roman._ He lunged to grab Deceit’s hand. “Wait,” he said. Deceit stopped. “Tell him yourself. He would want you to be here, too.”

Deceit turned his head to look at the Prince. “Flattering, really, but I know any sentiments I may have are one-sided,” he said, moving to break away from Roman’s grip. Roman didn’t let go.

“You know that’s a lie.”

Deceit gave a bitter chuckle. “It’s a part of my charm.”

Roman released him and handed the thought back to him.

“Ugh, would you hurry up? We only have one more minute until we lose Patton for good!” Virgil shouted.

With a snort from Roman, the two walked to the center of the room. Deceit strode to the edge of the table where Patton lay broken. “Soon, you’ll be with us,” he muttered, placing the fragment in the center of his chest. Dull blue melted through the cracks and illuminated a column of light above Patton. His body rose languidly from the table, limp but not lifeless. The cavity slowly filled, the cracks mending in their wake. None of them could look away.

The light faded and Patton began a slow descent back down to where he had been, now fully healed. Two radiating scars adorned his chest and back. Roman, Logan, and Virgil moved closer to the table. Virgil hopped up on the table, reaching up toward Patton, who gently draped over Virgil’s outstretched arms like loose fabric. Roman came and took Patton’s hand in his. Beneath the cool exterior, there was warmth again. And was that a shiver he felt? Roman’s vision started to wobble a little, his lips turned into a relieved smile. “It worked …” he uttered. Logan watched fondly and Deceit hid his face in an effort to keep the others from seeing him come undone.

Patton’s eyes fluttered open.

* * *

The first thing Patton noticed was that someone was touching him.

The second thing he noticed was that he was _freezing_.

He didn’t quite know what was happening; there had only been darkness before. Then, flashes of blue, of destruction, of reconciliation. Floating in this void, Patton knew he had shattered. But he didn’t know what in the world had been tugging him back from this empty chasm.

“… worked …”

His eyes slowly opened, dry and sticking to his eyelids. He blinked a few times.

“Wh …” Patton croaked, spluttering a little. Man, dying really dried him out. Suddenly, he felt a _very_ warm body tugging him close. He looked down. A streak of purple shone across his bare midriff. “V-Virgil?” he timidly asked, reaching to touch those strong arms around him.

“I’m here, Pops, I’m here,” Virgil rumbled against him. “And I’m never letting you go again.” He buried his face in the crook of Patton’s neck.

Patton smiled briefly. “Where are … the others?” he asked, starting to panic a little.

“We’re here, too,” came Roman’s voice. A hand tightened in his. “All of us.”

“Only because Roman nagged me,” Deceit added.

“Falsehood, you were just as worried as any of us,” replied Logan. He felt cool fingers on his wrist. “Your pulse is within normal limits,” he said. Patton squinted toward where he thought he heard Logan.

“I-I can’t see,” Patton said softly.

“Oh, right, you need these,” Roman said. He moved over Patton and brought something close to his face. He slid the black frames over Patton’s eyes and Patton couldn’t help lighting up being able to see everyone’s beautiful faces again. Even Deceit was smiling fondly and fighting to keep his composure. Patton’s momentary joy was quickly squashed when he caught sight of the room around them.

“Oh … oh no, what happened here …?” Patton asked fearfully. In a quieter voice, he added, “Did _I_ …”

Roman stroked Patton’s hand. “It was a small price to pay to get you back, Padre,” he reassured.

“But … what left those? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” said Patton.

“They were caused by thoughts that absorbed your essence. It took a lot of calming conversation to retrieve them from the Imagination,” Logan responded, gently putting a hand on Patton’s thigh. “Patton … why didn’t you just tell us that we were hurting you? I would have modified my actions had I known.”

“I think we _all_ would have. We certainly didn’t want to drive you to this,” Roman said.

Virgil just hummed into Patton’s shoulder.

Patton didn’t know what to say. They knew … but they weren’t throwing it back at him? Slowly, the words came to him. “I … I should’ve said what was, but I didn’t want to hurt _you_. I know none of you meant to hurt me, but heck, I’ve lived with this so long that, maybe a part of me thought I deserved it. I’m just … not as strong as the rest of you. I can’t keep a level head like you, Logan. And I don’t always know what I’m supposed to do like you do, Roman. And Virgil, you’re so independent in a way that I don’t always understand. Dee, I wish I were half as perceptive as you, then maybe I could’ve saved you all of this trouble. _All_ of you.”

All of them focused on Patton, who shrunk a little against Virgil under all this attention. Deceit broke the silence, “But what would you have learned if you had known all of this before? I tried giving you the answers, and that clearly helped us avoid a miserable outcome. Perhaps what matters most is where we go from here.”

Patton nodded and put his free hand over his heart, rubbing at the raised scars. With a gentle smile, he said, “I think this will remind me of something I didn’t know I forgot. You all have trusted me with all of your hearts for so long. So from now on, I think it’s only right to trust all of you with all of mine.”

Roman, who was now tearing up in earnest, embraced Patton, burying his face in his other shoulder. Logan beamed from where he was standing. Patton made grabby hands toward him and Deceit, and Logan was quickly beside Roman, resting a hand on Patton’s arm. Deceit ended up on the table after attempting to reach across it from the other side.

Patton sighed happily. He knew how the other sides really felt about him.

_Sentimental, but loving._

_Overbearing, but determined._

_Naïve, but kind._

And here, surrounded by all of the people who loved him, he realized that none of those labels mattered because he had something greater.

He had the love they all shared to help keep him together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, what a ride! 
> 
> I really hope y'all enjoyed this. This fic has been in the works since January, and I'm so happy to have seen it through to completion! I'd like to say a _massive_ thank you to the amazing [Toxic_Iris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toxic_Iris) for not only being the inspiration behind how more than half of this story played out, but for beta reading this entire 54 page monstrosity. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this story! I'll see you in the next ones! Come say hi on Tumblr @atlasistryingherbest where I'll be answering your questions, taking requests, being a general menace to society, etc! Also, there are some extra bits of content on there for this story, like artwork and two versions of a theme song that I wrote and performed. See you in the next story! <3


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